I’m currently studying naming practices in 7 countries on a Watson Fellowship. I’m curious how names are defined both by the individuals who bear them and their cultural and historical contexts. The process of naming a child is shaped by considerations that include religious traditions, government restrictions, family history, and cultural icons. I'm interested in how names act as microcosms for societal questions of identity on an international scale.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Technically, I’m already a day into my sixth month (I blame my parents’ visit for the fact that I'm posting this one day late). In yesterday’s conglomeration of medina wandering, ocean walks, and storytelling over mint tea and avocado smoothies, a blog posting felt a little less significant.

I’ve gotten to be a little spoiled this past month. Looking back at all of these watsoversaries, this past month was perhaps, a little anticlimactic. (I'm not complaining). I’ve been in Rabat the whole time with enough stability to meet with lots of people about my research, make myself breakfast every morning and go grocery shopping at a vegetable market right near my house. It’s been wonderful to see some familiar faces in the last month and let friends and family treat me to a couple comfortable beds in beautiful Riads and enough tajines to make my heart (and stomach) content. Although there are always daily challenges when traveling—language barriers to combat, landmarks to remember, and cultural flubs, it’s largely been a month of stability. That's part of why it's going to be hard to tear myself away from Rabat in less than two weeks.

In the past month I have:

-Visited a Moroccan hammam (public bathhouse) and got cleaner than I’ve probably ever been in my life.

-Met a new friend who, in the ultimate small world coincidence, was a counselor at the tiny, all girls, bilingual summer camp in St. Donat, Quebec where I was a camper from ages 11-14. (Of course I would meet her in Rabat, Morocco).

-Spent a lot of time bundled up by the ocean.

-Tried on a takchita.

-Spent a few nights in the Fez medina, believed to be the world’s largest car-free urban area and home to the University Al-Karaouine (founded in 859 AD) which is believed to be the oldest (still functioning) university.

-Had my first visits from friends and family of the year.

-Been rowed across the river between Rabat and Sale

-Learned how to make spring rolls. In Morocco. (Sign of globalization #23434).

-Had a Christmas Eve alone.

-Celebrated Christmas without a tree or gift wrap or stockings or home.

-Honed my bargaining skills and walked away with four small Moroccan rugs.

-Fallen in love with the new Rabat-Sale tramway system.

-Cooked chocolate chip cookies and apple pie in a toaster oven (sign of desperation rather than resourcefulness after five months out of the U.S….)

-Due to a genius Christmas present from my cousin Chris, spent way more time doing the New York Times Crossword puzzle online than I would like to admit. (Wednesdays-Sundays are still a big challenge).

-Can now make basic conversation in Moroccan Arabic, as long as the person I’m speaking to wants me to identify all the food on a table, the days of the week, or count to ten.

I feel fortified by my visitors, content from the recent holidays, and ready to ring in the New Year and seven more months of adventure.

Monday, December 26, 2011

Just as I was feeling the Christmas-Eve-alone blues, Santa swept in and brought my parents to the Casablanca airport yesterday morning. After five months of (mainly) solo travel, I was only a little excited to see them.

It is amazing to think that a year after my parents "rashly" promised me that they'd come visit wherever I was for Christmas if I got a Watson fellowship, here we are, together in Morocco.

Thank you, Santa. Thank you, Watson. Wishing you and yours a very happy holiday (just a day late). Later this week my sister and brother-in-law will be arriving and we'll all ring in the new year here together.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

During the last two weeks I’ve been in and out of the Rabat American School speaking to students (8th grade-12th grade) about my fellowship, my research, and their own opinions on some of the fundamental questions I’m exploring. RAS is located in Rabat’s Agdal neighborhood and offers an American-based education for grades kindergarten through twelfth. About 35% of the students are Moroccan and the other 65% are from a huge variety of international backgrounds.

Over the past five weeks in Rabat, I’ve become friends with a few teachers at the school and we agreed that my project would be a good fit in a lot of their classes. I spoke with one 8th grade Moroccan Studies class, two 10th grade English classes, two Theory of Knowledge classes (one 11th grade, one 12th grade), and one 12th grade Political Science class. Feeling far too young for my “guest speaker” title, but also far too old to be eating on a tray in the high school cafeteria, I tried to strike a balance of presenting information to them through informal conversation.

I set up a PowerPoint about my project and we debated a lot of questions that arose from it. Questions like, “Is it ethical for the government to restrict what people can name their children? Is the power to give a name a human right?” and “How central is a name to a person’s identity? (How do names shape who we are?” We also attempted to answer “What assumptions do we make about people based on their names?” and “How are names changing in 2011? What influence does globalization have on names?”

Being the English nerd I am, I pulled up a couple of competing literary passages about names to give them a chance to see where they fall on the spectrum of how important names are to our identities… in other words, are you more of a Juliet or an Anne?

O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title.

--Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare.

In contrast to:

"Unromantic fiddlesticks!" said the unsympathetic Marilla."Anne is a real good plain sensible name. You've no need tobe ashamed of it."

"Oh, I'm not ashamed of it," explained Anne, "only I likeCordelia better. I've always imagined that my name wasCordelia--at least, I always have of late years. When I wasyoung I used to imagine it was Geraldine, but I likeCordelia better now. But if you call me Anne please call meAnne spelled with an E."

"What difference does it make how it's spelled?" asked Marillawith another rusty smile as she picked up the teapot.

"Oh, it makes SUCH a difference. It LOOKS so much nicer.When you hear a name pronounced can't you always see it inyour mind, just as if it was printed out? I can; and A-n-nlooks dreadful, but A-n-n-e looks so much more distinguished.If you'll only call me Anne spelled with an E I shall try toreconcile myself to not being called Cordelia.

-Anne of Green Gables, L.M. Montgomery

Let’s admit it, I side way more with Anne on this one, but it was so interesting to hear students’ opinions on this. Several classes wrote responses to the question “How central is your name to your identity?” and their answers were all over the spectrum. For me, going into RAS was a great opportunity to practice how to articulate what I’m studying (and why it’s important) to others, as well as hear a variety of perspectives from Moroccan students about their own names. At a school with such an international population, I met students from Germany, Belgium, Korea, the Philippines, the USA, Italy, Spain and the UK who could fill me in on naming in a lot of different countries.

I also got to hear a lot of great stories, like one teacher at the school who converted to Islam in order to adopt a boy from Morocco years ago, but just within the last few months was able to finally give him the same last name as her, or about a girl at the school whose name means “crown of flowers” because her mother kept making these when she was pregnant with her.

Several of them gave me permission to pull quotes from their reflections, and I’ll let their insight and enthusiasm speak for itself:

“Personally at least, since I am named after Nelson Mandela, I was raised with “leftist” or “left-leaning” ideals, and Nelson Mandela, although religious, was a big advocate of those. My name defines how I act, how I am perceived. I think that if I had a different name I would only act differently because a different family would have named me, and that same family would have raised me differently—I am proud of my name and what it stands for, and I hope to honor it.”

“I personally don’t think my name says anything about me at all. First of all, my parents chose it when I was a still a little shrimp so there is no way it could reflect any aspect of my personality. Also, I’d be just as happy with Hassan or Zak or whatever other name. If we were able to choose our own names than maybe we’d see a certain part of ourselves in that name.”

“My name, Mehdi, is one that derives from the Arabs.In family life I am indirectly related to the prophet Mohammad, peace be upon Him. The meaning of my name is “the straight path.” While my name has no identity to Morocco, the country in which I’ve been living my whole life, it is a relatively common name (There are two Mehdi’s in RAS). My name thus is not a specific name of a specific tribe or sect or region in Morocco, it’s a name that can be found across the Arab world, along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. As years pass on we find that many societies are detaching from the religious sides of their family. Religion has become something of the past. Although I am a practicing Muslim, I find that the world “I don’t really care” are beginning to be uttered much more oftenly. As a result, we see many teens are getting the idea that not caring about what their choices are makes them “cool.” Identity is becoming a larger blur to many and I believe that in a matter of time people won’t carry any identity of their own. “

“Amir is a very rare name, quite like myself, but I don’t think I’ve ever met a teacher that hasn’t mentioned the originality of my case to me; sometimes with a positive connotation and sometimes with a negative one. It also translates into prince, I don’t know what aspects of a Prince I might have, I presume none, however, many have also pointed out that I’m a bit of an egomaniac, I suppose a monarch has some confidence. It could also be used to refer to someone who is quite good at something. The prince of football, the prince of literature…So this name may also signify that you will be important or simply at one period in time you will be a master in something. I think if it’s a name, like Pearl or Ketchup it could mean that your parents were open to a lot of things and not conservative. It says a lot about your parents if they name you after a movie star, after a prophet rather than a politician…it shows what they care about because they would name their kid after it.”

“I believe that names and identities have no correlation whatsoever because a name does not give insight to one’s person. The fact that our name is given to us a chosen by a parent just proves that our names and identities are not relevant. Some people may say “her name fits her face”, which is sometimes true depending on people’s past experiences and perceptions. However, this is purely physical and aesthetic, and I believe it does not really coincide with one’s identity. I think that identity has to do with personality, self-individual.”

“Although my name is used throughout the world (even if with different spellings), it says a lot about where I come from. Mariam, spelled this way, is an Arab name. I would not think of any more beautiful name, although I wish I could fit the descriptions of it. The Virgin Mary was a saint, and although I am still young, I know I am no saint. I am human. My name means a lot to me because it says a lot about where I come from. It is also because it is the only female name that has a whole verse about it in the Quran. Other than that, my name has no reflection over my personality, which is I consider the strongest factor of my identity. The name indicates that I am Arab, so it says a lot about my culture, my background and the environment I come from. Because a name reflects where you come from and what social background you come from, people automatically make assumptions about you. These assumptions are due to generalizations or other people they know who bear the same name. If a name is really unique, we tend to identify it with a single person we know. Names say a lot about you that each person interprets differently. Some people change their names to be accepted, or to have more chances.”

Can you see how thrilled I was to have such thoughtful and interesting students to share my enthusiasm for this topic with? Sometimes this can feel like such a solo endeavor, and it’s always nice to find people to share my experiences with along the way. I was also really touched by how concerned these students were (particularly the 8th graders) for my well being as I go on this journey…a lot of them were absolutely shocked I don’t have anyone to meet me in each place (or anyone to be “monitoring” me, as one 8th-grader put it).

I gave the students the link to my blog (with the forewarning that some entries are solely gratuitous updates of daily/personal life). Based on the number of hits from Morocco this week, I think some of them have been checking it out.To the RAS students who may be reading this: a sincere THANK YOU! It’s been such a pleasure getting to know you and hearing your stories.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

My Christmas list this year is pretty pathetic. The real gift is that family is coming to visit me in Morocco next week (!), and so when people ask what I want for Christmas I’m kind of at a loss. When my mom asked what she could bring me, all that came to mind was more pairs of quick dry travel underwear and Dr. Bronner’s liquid soap. (I will be the first to admit this is more pathetic than selfless). Truth be told, I’m much more excited to pass on some things I’ve collected to go back to the U.S. than to receive anything. Living out of a suitcase for a year in seven different climates means that stuff becomes a burden as much as a gift.

That said, a lot of stuff that I’ve collected this year has become really important to me and also acts as a way of showing the time that has passed. The admission that there aren’t a lot of things I want this Christmas isn’t really a lack of materialism, just a matter of practicality. Truth be told, I can be somewhat materialistic. One of the many things the psychic I met in Ubud told me was, “Hmm, you really like pretty things.” Yep. Can’t deny that one. The truth hurts.

In my defense, most of the pretty things I really like are not because they are merely pretty. Things, like names, carry stories. Lugging around such a small amount of things with me this year, having the same x number of outfits to get dressed from, having to be able to carry (or drag) all that I have has only made this more so. I think of the many different streets, mountains and houses my shoes have walked in during the last (almost) five months and I know that no matter how worn out they get I'll never be able to get rid of them. As most of my communication with people who are dear to me happens solely through a cyber connection these days, the tangible things in my life have taken on greater importance. A card that my parents gave me before Ileft (with the picture at the bottom of this post), or a photo album I put together in Bali (because looking at photos on the computer just isn’t the same).

I was skyping with a friend last week and I noticed she was drinking tea from a mug I gave her for Christmas three years ago and almost burst into tears. There is something about interacting with these things, and about using whatever we (literally) carry with us that has somehow reached this new depth while I’m away.

It’s probably the same reason why I cried when opening up this box with a handwritten Burlington address. I’ve been on the move so much that it’s the first piece of mail I’ve gotten all year, and there was something about emptying its contents and holding them that made me feel way closer to home than any kind of skype date would.

(Thanks Gail & Hanna)

Included in the package's contents. For anyone who hasn't yet tried "Grace Under Fire" do so immediately, because Grace Potter teaming up with Lake Champlain Chocolates is pretty much the best thing to happen to Vermont since Ben & Jerry became friends.

In a weird way, some of these things are all that I will have that has shared this journey with me. They also might help me make the transition back to home, many months from now. I can imagine that because this experience is, in some ways, such an isolating one, there are going to be days when life goes on and I almost feel like I dreamed it all. I’m counting on these things to bring me back.

I sent a box home from India a while ago that arrived at my parents’ house in Burlington recently. I told my mom she should feel free to open it and see what I was sending back but she said no. She looked at the package, which was covered in fabric, and had been stitched up with thread and sealing wax at a post office in Jaipur and said, “I think that it’s actually going to be really important for YOU to open that when you’re back.”

I think she’s right.

I agree with many other people in the world who feel that this season often shows consumerism and materialism at their worst, but I also wanted to offer this defense of things, at least in moderation.There is a lot of comfort in the fact that I know when I finally do go home, no matter what else is going on or where I’m headed from there, there will be a box waiting for me in my bedroom. I’ll be able to unwrap its contents, see my (then) nine-month old handwriting, breathe deep and smell a little bit of India, remember where each little thing was acquired, and then remember that at one time, I was right there too.

The image from a card my parents gave me that I have been carrying around with me. "Ausflug" by Quint Buchholz.

Friday, December 16, 2011

As you can probably tell from my recent posts, I’ve been trying to make as much headway as I can learning about naming in Morocco before my second round of visitors arrive later this month.My name posts are outnumbering my general life posts lately because if I wrote what I’d been up to it would mainly consist of the not-so-thrilling details of time spent grocery shopping, e-mailing future contacts and catching up on bad American television.Thanks largely to the fact that I am settled into my Rabat apartment and have a slew of wonderful contacts to call on, getting into the research side of things here has proved to be far easier than it was in Indonesia or India. In the past week I’ve had several lunch dates full of naming conversations, was a guest speaker at a high school about my research (more on that later), and have sought the help of a few new friends to do some translation work. All in all, while I've become entirely comfortable with the fact that this year is about many different forms of learning, it’s also nice to feel productivein an academic sense once in a while and have copious notes to prove it. In every country I go to this year I know I won’t be able to have the same kind of contacts or set up with which to work from, but I’m trying to take advantage of all that’s working in my favor while I can.

Hello Rabat.

One research jackpot of the past week was this list. To be honest, neither the person who gave me this list nor I have any idea exactly where it’s from or even how she got a hold of it. I was reluctant to share it just because I have no context for it and because of that, I can’t say that it’s an official document. I’m not sure if this is all the names that were sent to a particular regional committee during a certain time, or only names whose decisions were petitioned. Regardless, I find it quite interesting to go through and see what names were approved and what names were rejected (or, perhaps most interesting of all, what suggestions the government made in order to create a name that would be accepted).I do know the list spans across the years 2004-2007 (given the recent changes in policy, specifically regarding Amazigh names, obviously the outcomes might be different today). Most of the document is in Arabic, but based on what I remember from the translations of a friend, here is a simplified version I typed up:

Name

Decision

Year

Astor Francois

Rejected

2006

Bahrouin

Rejected

2005

Chayna

Rejected

2005

Chynes

Rejected

2005

Dylan

Rejected

2005

Hallya

Accepted

2005

Ikram Tamazight

Rejected; Suggested “Ikram”

2006

Inara

Accepted

2006

Jaid

Accepted

2006

Janet

Rejected

2006

Joud

Accepted

2005

Layana

Accepted

2005

Laytana

Rejected

2005

Linda

Rejected

2005

Loula

Rejected

2005

Magdoul

Accepted

2005

Maissane

Accepted

2006

Maksen

Rejected

2005

Masin Elian

Rejected

2005

Milena

Rejected

2005

Nourjane

Accepted

2005

Nyveen

Rejected

2005

Omaya

Accepted

2006

Rachele

Rejected

2006

Rafel

Rejected

2005

Rayana

Accepted

2006

Romaissa

Accepted

2005

Safir

Accepted

2005

Shahinaz

Accepted

2005

Sidra

Accepted

2005

Tim

Rejected

2006

Vanessa

Rejected; Suggested “Anisa”

2006

Wahib

Accepted

2006

Wissam

Accepted

2006

Youla

Rejected

2005

Zacharia

Rejected

2006

Zoe

Rejected

2005

Alae

Accepted

2004

Iptissam Ptissam

Rejected; suggested just “Iptissam”

2007

Pierre Faaris

Rejected; suggested “Faaris”

2006

Adam

Accepted

2004

Akrane-Idine

Accepted

2007

Yzaia

Accepted

2006

Aslam

Accepted

2005

Aanouz

Accepted

2005

Afane

Accepted

2006

Iguidir

Rejected

2006

Alissa

Rejected; suggested “Anisa”

2006

Ema

Rejected

2005

Imdad

Accepted

2007

Amarin

Accepted

2005

Amaline

Accepted

2007

Amir

Accepted

2006

Amelia

Accepted

2006

Anais

Accepted

2005

Anir

Accepted

2004

Aous

Accepted

2007

Onisa

Accepted

2005

Ouweys

Accepted

2006

Aissar

Accepted

2007

Ilaf

Accepted

2005

Betil

Rejected; Suggested “Batul”

2005

Badis

Accepted

2007

Benyebka

Rejected

2007

Tara

Accepted

2007

Tasmine

Accepted

2007

Tayssir

Accepted

2007

Tifawt

Accepted

2007

Tifa

Accepted

2007

Tawa

Accepted

2006

Jed

Accepted

2005

Jassim

Accepted

2007

Jibrail

Accepted

2004

Jaubeir

Accepted

2007

Jassir

Rejected

2006

Jaloua

Accepted

2005

Jounada

Accepted

2005

Janallal

Rejected

2004

Jinane

Accepted

2007

Janna

Accepted

2007

Joudia

Accepted

2007

Jouwairiya

Accepted

2005

Jeremy

Rejected

2007

Jailys

Rejected

2005

Jihane

Accepted

2004

Houmima

Accepted

2007

Khelian

Rejected

2005

Dalia

Accepted

2005

Dana

Accepted

2005

Dania

Rejected

2007

Djora

Accepted

2005

Douria

Accepted

2007

Douae

Accepted

2004

Douniel

Accepted

2005

Dyran

Accepted

2005

Racha

Accepted

2004

Rakane

Rejected

2005

Ralis

Accepted

2007

Rane

Accepted

2005

Rayn

Accepted

2007

Rita

Rejected

2005

Ritaje

Accepted

2005

Rahile

Accepted

2007

Razane

Accepted

2005

Rocham

Rejected

2006

Riham

Accepted

2004

Rostane Wissen

Rejected

2004

Roman

Rejected

2005

Rayan

Accepted

2004

Zinnira

Accepted

2005

Ziya

Accepted

2005

Zizi

Rejected

2005

Sara

Accepted

2004

Sania

Accepted

2007

Sajida

Rejected

2007

Sirine

Accepted

2005

Soulafa

Accepted

2005

Solwen

Accepted

2007

Salena

Accepted

2005

Sinan

Accepted

2004

Sondosse

Accepted

2004

Sania

Accepted

2007

Siwar

Accepted

2005

Susane

Rejected

2007

Sira

Accepted

2005

Celya

Accepted

2005

Cenda

Rejected

2005

Sinimane

Accepted

2007

Chadine

Rejected

2005

Shahine

Accepted

2006

Chainda

Rejected

2005

Sheaze

Rejected

2004

Chahd

Accepted

2006

Chahla

Rejected

2007

Cheryne

Accepted

2005

Sherihane

Accepted

2006

Sabrine

Accepted

2004

Safora

Accepted

2005

Salena

Accepted

2006

Sahra Isabelle

Rejected

2005

Sakhr

Accepted

2005

Sohaib

Accepted

2007

Sorine

Accepted

2007

Sofia

Accepted

2004

Sohane

Accepted

2007

Abdelhanin

Accepted

2004

Abdesettirre

Rejected

2005

Itab

Accepted

2006

Asli

Accepted

2005

Ilian

Accepted

2005

Ghandi

Accepted

2005

Ghofrane

Accepted

2006

Fady

Accepted

2007

Farabe

Rejected

2005

Kossay

Accepted

2007

Camelia

Accepted

2005

Kenzo

Accepted

2007

Keyane

Accepted

2004

Laala

Accepted

2004

Lamees

Accepted

2007

Lahim

Accepted

2007

Loumedia

Accepted

2004

Louniss

Accepted

2007

Lea

Rejected; Suggested “Layla”

2007

Lea Mariane

Rejected

2006

Lydia

Accepted

2007

Laysa

Rejected; Suggested” Layla”

2005

Lyssa

Accepted

2004

Lilia

Rejected

2005

Lyamine

Accepted

2006

Line

Accepted

2006

Marina

Rejected

2006

Mazine

Accepted

2005

Mazilia

Rejected

2006

Almasse Islam

Accepted

2005

Massine

Accepted

2005

Masinissa

Accepted

2004

Mahelle

Accepted

2005

Awia

Accepted

2005

May

Rejected

2007

Madghis

Accepted

2006

Marame

Accepted

2007

Marwa

Accepted

2004

Malak Rouhi

Accepted

2004

Melissa

Accepted

2005

Melina

Accepted

2007

Manar

Accepted

2004

Manaf

Accepted

2007

Mahal

Accepted

2004

Mahinar

Rejected

2005

Mikael

Accepted

2007

Mira

Accepted

2005

Maysara

Accepted

2006

Maissam

Accepted

2005

Maysoun

Accepted

2004

Neisa

Accepted

2007

Naila

Accepted

2004

Nadine Yossra

Accepted

2007

Nadine

Accepted

2007

Nassia

Accepted

2005

Nabil Juba

Accepted

2005

Nidhal

Accepted

2007

Noam Jibril

Accepted

2007

Noham

Accepted

2005

Nelia

Rejected

2006

Nehame

Accepted

2006

Noha-Meiss

Accepted

2005

Noradan

Accepted

2007

Norman

Rejected

2006

Nouri

Accepted

2005

Noriane

Accepted

2007

Numidia

Accepted

2007

Ninia

Accepted

2004

Hanae Joudiya

Accepted

2007

Haissam

Accepted

2007

Widiane

Accepted

2007

Wadir

Accepted

2005

Waris

Rejected

2007

Wacil

Accepted

2005

Ouiaae

Rejected

2005

Yara

Rejected

2005

Yamin

Accepted

2006

Eliane

Rejected

2004

Yani

Rejected

2004

Yanis

Accepted

2004

El Yassae

Accepted

2004

Alisha

Accepted

2004

Yuba

Accepted

2005

Menen

Rejected

2007

Rymade

Accepted

2007

Iwane

Accepted

2007

Sabri

Accepted

2007

Noe

Accepted

2007

It’s really hard to analyze this list without a context and I think it raises more questions than it answers.I do think it’s interesting to see though and to note the tiny differences in letters that controlled whether this particular committee accepted these names or not; Rachele is rejected, Racha is accepted. Layana is accepted, Laytana is not, Dana is accepted, Dania is not. The very western-sounding (to my ears) Lydia, Adam and Amelia are accepted, but Marina, Zoe and Jeremy are not.

To someone who grew up in a place where people have complete freedom in naming (and often in fact, use creative spellings to make their children’s names unique), the one-letter difference between “Dana” and Dania” seems ridiculous to try to control. It would be as if “Caitlin” was a legal name in the U.S. but “Kaitlin” was not.It’s also a reminder to me though that the difference between “Dana” and “Dania” might be huge to someone who has a much better knowledge of The Qur’an than I do, or of Moroccan history, or of the different ethnic identities within this country.As I am reminded consistently throughout this year, I am only at the tip of the iceberg in trying to understand what the legal, cultural and historical ramifications of these names across nations are.

I talked to a lot of Moroccan students this week as we tried to guess why a government might choose to have these restrictions; or, conversely, why a country like the U.S. would not. Framing these legalities within a specific place, culture and history, is a reminder that the difference between “Dana” and “Dania” may not be one to laugh off. To state the obvious, Morocco is a place that's had to fight for itself quite a bit. And framed within a history of colonization and along with that, a lot of racism and violence, the difference between the (traditionally) French “Lea” (rejected) and the (traditionally) Arab “Layla” (accepted) becomes much greater than just three letters.

Most of all after reading this list, I'm just left with the desire to meet the Moroccan couple who really wanted to name their son "Norman." Now that's a story I'd like to hear.

About Me

I graduated from Swarthmore College in 2011 as an English Literature/Theater Major. From July 2011 to July 2012 I'll be traveling to seven different countries on a Thomas J. Watson Fellowship to study naming practices around the world (www.watsonfellowship.org). You can reach me at nell.a.bangjensen@gmail.com.